Only in his arms
by Intergalactic Chocochip Cookie
Summary: Alice's relationship with her doctor and protector at the asylum. She wants more than friendship from him, and she gets it... I hope Jasper forgives me someday... Enjoy!


**Only in his arms**

Only in his arms I feel safe; only in his arms I feel strong; only in his arms I feel alive.

Yesterday, they came for me. I already knew it, because I had dreamed of it the night before. They put on me the straightjacket, and they tied me with its sleeves. I begged them, I begged them not to take me there, but they wouldn't listen. They dragged me to the corridor, and as I had been twisting and screaming all the time, and by then I was also crying, one of them slapped me. His hand was so big and his blow so strong that the whole right side of my face burned.

But then I heard his voice; in that moment I knew I was saved. "What are you doing to that child?" he asked. He sounded calm as always, but I know him, I know he was trying to restrain himself. Both men stopped dead, and as soon as their hold on me loosened, I broke free and ran to him. His arms wrapped me and then I felt protected. He undid the knot of the sleeves and I held him as strongly as I could. "We were leading her to the Shocks Room," explained one of them. "It's part of her treatment." "And is it also part of her treatment to get beaten?" Now I could hear the anger breaking through his voice. He pushed me back a little to examine my face. I felt his permanently cold hand on my skin and the pain faded at once. I inhaled his scent, sweet, delicious, no perfume or flower could equal it; it was so strange and yet so familiar, as if it would always be a part of my life. Whenever I heard his voice or smelled his aroma I could hardly remember my sorrows. I could hardly remember my name.

"Well," I heard the other man, "she was being rather difficult, and-" "What did you expect? That she would gladly go to be tortured?" all pretense of calmness was gone now, he stroked my hair fiercely as he spoke "Would you like to be treated like an animal going to the slaughterhouse? This child is a human being, just like you are, or should be. If I ever see you again hurting her or any of the patients, you'll regret it. Now, go. I'll take charge of her."

They left. Then he guided me to his office. As soon as he closed the door he began kissing the parts where I'd been hit. I wished I'd got a real trashing all over my body. The soft pecks from his icy lips were full of that tenderness that always had the same effects- in no time I was crying uncontrollably. He pressed me even tighter. "I'm so sorry," he said in my ear. "I promised I would care for you, protect you. What am I doing?" I felt his breath in my hair and on my neck. It was so nice I couldn't answer him, I couldn't think. The goose bumps it raised on my skin weren't from cold.

Somehow I managed to speak. "You _are_ caring for me and you _are_ protecting me. You just did. No one had ever been so kind with me. And you don't have to, nothing ties you to me. Yet here you are." "How could I go, how could I leave you?" he said. "You can just walk away, like everyone else has." But this idea was too, too painful for me. "But don't. Please, don't," I had to add. We fell silent. While I was in his arms I tried to listen to his heart, but I couldn't find the sound. Before I could really wonder why he took my hand and led me to a sofa. "Let me take care of your face," he said. I had all but forgotten the blow, it was now just a dim numbness. He grabbed a flask from a shelf and came to sit beside me. He smeared the oinment over my skin. His fingers felt cold, soft, gentle. Once more, I wished I had got the trashing.

When he was done I removed my straightjacket, staying in my usual white gown. "Thank you," I said. As always, my thanks went for more than that moment, and he noticed. "For what?" "For being here. For listening to my senseless blabber," he smiled. "For lulling me every night with your sweet, sweet, little stars. For giving me chocolate on Wednesdays and Sundays and prohibitting it the rest of the week because it would corrode my teeth," he was laughing now, and I laughed along. "For letting me in in your sanctuary of office," he mussed my hair, we were laughing louder now. "For... for..." his face was less than three inches from mine; I could no longer speak. "What else?" he whispered. In that moment our lips touched.

It was almost imperceptible at first, but then we gained courage. Again and again, our lips joined in brief, soft touches. Slowly, I put my arms around his neck. He seized me by the waist and pulled me closer. His kisses grew stronger and longer, his lips pinched mine. He tasted so sweet, his scent concentrated in a flavour richer than anything. I grasped his curls and his tongue traced the contour of my mouth; I heard his quiet moan when his hold on me became tighter. But when I bit –softly, of course- his lower lip he broke apart. "Enough for today, precious one," he said. "Time to go back to the Earth." He kissed me again and then, finally, he spoke the words I had been dying to hear. Against my lips, he whispered. "I love you."


End file.
